Usually Napoleon regarded eating as a necessary evil and ate swiftly before returning to his work. But not tonight. Around the table sat his wife, his brothers Joseph and Lucien, his sisters Caroline and Pauline, and at the far end of the table his mother, Letizia.When the main course was served and the servants had retreated from the room and quietly closed the doors behind them, Caroline cleared her throat.

‘I hear you are to visit Italy.’

Josephine started a little at the statement and glanced hurriedly at Napoleon, who forced himself to keep his surprise in check as he asked, ‘Where did you hear that?’

‘From my husband. Joachim had it from his chief of staff.’

‘Really?’ Napoleon raised an eyebrow. Marshal Joachim Murat was the Emperor’s most talented cavalry commander, but like most of his kind he was inclined to swagger about and be indiscreet. If he had heard the news of the pending tour of Italy, then there was every chance that it was the talk of half the salons in Paris.

He nodded at his sister. ‘Very well then, since the secret is out, yes, it is true. I intend to make a tour of our territories in Italy.’

‘Is it also true that you are to be crowned King of Italy?’

That could only have come from Talleyrand, Napoleon realised at once. But why would he spread knowledge of Napoleon’s plans? Perhaps to forewarn any would-be assassins? The thought was no sooner in his head than Napoleon forced himself to dismiss it. Since the bloody attempt on his life four years earlier he had been inclined to see threats everywhere, but he realised he could not run his life effectively if he lived in a state of fear.

‘It is true, Caroline.’

At the other end of the table his mother laughed humourlessly. ‘Another coronation? Do you collect crowns, my son?’

Napoleon laughed, and the others followed suit for a moment, finally clearing the air of some of the tension that had hung over the dinner table since the meal had begun.

‘I am prepared to collect crowns when it is expedient to do so, Mother. However, it would be unseemly to overindulge in such acquisitions.’

‘Especially for one who was such an ardent Jacobin not so many years ago,’ Lucien added quietly.

Napoleon turned to his younger brother with a weary expression. Lucien had always been the most radical of his siblings, dangerously so.

Lucien sipped his wine and continued. ‘Do you remember, brother, when we overthrew the Directory and you became First Consul?’

‘I do.’

‘And do you recall that I drew my sword and swore an oath that if ever you betrayed France and became a tyrant I would plunge that blade into your heart myself ?’

‘I remember it.’

‘Now you are Emperor, and about to take another crown.’ He raised his glass in mock salute. ‘That makes rather a mockery of my oath, wouldn’t you say?’